


From Ashes

by denilmo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Prompt Fill, but here they are anyway, it took on a life of its own, no one asked for these feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 07:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denilmo/pseuds/denilmo
Summary: Ignis and Prompto fade in and out of each other's lives, and while the darkness embodied everything in their world, those moments were enough. But with the light returned, the promise of a future lingering on its horizon, everything fell apart. A whole year has passed since they've seen each other last, and Prompto wants some answers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlecakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/gifts).



> This was a sensory prompt I was given for "the smell of burning wood" and it just kinda ran away from me. Hope you like it, cakes!

Prompto knew exactly where he’d find him. In a city as crowded as Lestallum there was really only one place. Only he knew of it - trust Ignis to discover the _one_ quiet place - because it was where they’d shared their first kiss. After everything that had happened since then - since Ignis lost his sight, since light only came by way of torches and fluorescent, since the calming sounds of the world around them faded away, masked by moans and screams of daemons - this place still remained, still just as undiscovered by anyone else.

In Prompto’s memory this place was bathed in an ethereal golden light, the setting sun striking the clouds, their rosy tint reflecting off the delicate curves of Ignis’ cheeks, his lips, as he smiled. His voice had been so light, delicate, charming as he called his name, holding his hand out in offering. Everything Ignis did was an offer, always giving Prompto a choice: the choice to take his hand, the choice to close the gap and kiss him, the choice to accept his heart. Prompto always chose him, even when Ignis had pushed him away - especially when he did that.

Prompto watched him silently. The man before him now wasn’t as young anymore, the bright lights washed out his features creating harsh shadows that made Ignis look so tired, and perhaps he was. He was like a statue, leant against the slab of concrete that made up the balcony of the stairwell so still that it was as if he'd been carved out of the same material, head turned as if he were watching the people passing by on the streets below.

Prompto began up the steps with a soft smile. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Ignis didn’t move, even his visor obstructed any glance or blink. Prompto stood beside him, the heat of their bodies immediately jumping at one another, building between them and bleeding comfortably across their gently touching arms. “Gladio’s in town, he was looking for you,” Prompto mentioned, his happiness genuine. He was always glad when Gladio returned, _that he was still alive_. This bit of information was what made Prompto come looking for Ignis. It had been a while since all three of them were together.

Yet Ignis remained quiet and only the faint rise of his shoulders and chest gave any indication that he was still alive, still present. The younger man drew in a breath and rested his elbows on the balcony, clasping his hands in front of him as he looked back out at the people - so many of them here now, clinging to what light, what hope, was left.

He opened his mouth to say something else, to fill the quiet, to let him know he _wasn’t_ alone, but the crystalline tear slipping freely down Ignis’ cheek stopped him. With a soft sigh, Prompto laid his head upon his shoulder, slender fingers curling around his bicep. His quiet companionship was a comfort, one that made Ignis shift and draw him into his arms. Prompto smiled, pressed the curve of his lips into his neck so he could feel it as he returned the hug.

When Ignis spoke he was just as quiet as Prompto remembered, only more fragile. Time took its toll on everyone. “It’s been six years now.”

Prompto’s fingers curled into the back of Ignis’ shirt and he pressed a gentle kiss to the hint of neck over the collar. “Yeah…” he answered in a whisper.

“How-” Ignis cut himself off, but Prompto had heard the unsteadiness in the single word. Prompto knew his partner couldn’t see it, but he put on a smile and pulled back taking him by the shoulders. “You know Noct, he’s probably taking his sweet time on purpose. He’ll come back so we can’t give up, you know.” He’s said it time and again. “He’s counting on us.” He’s reminded himself of this all the time.

Ignis turned away from him and wiped at his eyes. Noctis _was_ counting on him, wasn’t he? Ignis knew what lie ahead in wait for Noctis and he’d taken it upon himself to find an alternative under the guise of researching daemons (which he still did with the help of Sania). It’d already been six years and his research still needed more work. He was always worried that Noctis would return before his goal had been achieved, before he’d found another way to bring back the light without him becoming a sacrifice.It wasn’t fair to have Noctis carry such a weight on his shoulders.

There _had_ to be a way, and with every day, month, year that passed without Noct coming back just felt like more sand slipping through a timeglass. Even knowing that, Ignis could feel himself crumbling under the weight. “What will he return to? It’s been so difficult moving forward. How many more of us will die? How many more of _them_ will spawn?” he spat, voice still as quiet. Somehow it made Ignis sound more threatening, more wounded. “It feels useless, like we’re slinging blades because it’s all we know how to do. Their numbers are endless and ours are dwindling.”

Prompto didn’t bother keeping the smile on his face. “But we gotta keep going, Iggy. Because Noct will come back and I plan on being there to see him. The research you’ve been doing on the daemons, it’s helped save lives, too-” he missed the way Ignis winced “-so we’re all fighting…. For our lives, our home, our future.”

Ignis deflated as Prompto took hold of his hand, held it purposely between the warmth of his own. “ _Our_ future… _”_

He nodded, lips trembling as he held everything back. He wanted to look forward to such an idea - a house to share with Prompto, to fill the cavities of the walls with tears, and laughter, fears, and whispered confessions - with moans and cries of ecstasy, declarations of love, the echo of each other’s names. But he pushed images like that deep within himself, wrapped and tucked tightly to his chest, because their work was not done yet.

His eyes burned with unshed tears, but he took a deep breath willing them not to fall, his quivering chin smoothing as he stilled. Prompto reached out to him, let his hand slide up Ignis’ shoulder to his neck, upward still, gently, to cup his face. “Iggy… _Ignis_ … a future is worth fighting for… isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” he replied, placing a hand over Prompto’s, pressing his face further into the sure warmth of his touch. “Of course.”

Prompto reached forward then, pinching the corner of his frames, and Ignis closed his eyes as the visor was pulled from his face. Gentle fingers wiped at the remnants of tears, softly traced the raised jagged flesh.

Ignis drew in an unsteady breath, he knew there was a gaze trained solely on him, bright and worried. What he would pay to see those eyes that held the universe within them once again, even if they were casting disappointment. He sighed, feeling such a subtle, tender caress of his scars; Prompto’s actions were so gentle it made his skin tingle. It was always disarming to feel something so delicate in the aftermath of the rage that had created it.

“How do I look?” he asked softly, the barest hint of a smile curling his lips.

“You’re beautiful, Ignis.”

He let out a single laugh, the sound bordering on disbelief, as he lifted his hand and found Prompto's face. His touch slowly wandered over his skin  - the tip of his nose to the apple of his cheek and down. Finding a rough line, he frowned. "You were injured?"

"Just a scratch,"  Prompto assured. "Probably won't even scar."

Ignis' fingers smoothed along his jaw, catching stubble that grew into something longer, shaggier, thicker. He smiled faintly. "This is new."

"Thought I'd try growing some facial hair."

"I wish I could see it." It was quiet between them as Ignis let his fingers play through the hair on Prompto's chin. "I wish I could describe to you how strangely this feels, to know you're getting older but being unable to witness it. In my eyes you are still twenty and I often wonder just how different you are."

There was a melancholy that rang in his words, that filled the hollow places of Prompto's bones, made him ache and yearn to take it all away. "I'm still me, Iggy. All the stuff that matters can't be seen anyway."

“I suppose you’re right,” he replied with a soft laugh, and just like that it seemed like the Ignis that Prompto knew so well had returned. The younger man grinned as he handed back the visor; even if this was temporary, they deserved to have some kind of happiness, didn’t they?

“Let’s go meet with Gladiolus. I’m sure he’s already started without us.”

* * *

 

The trio spent the night drinking and catching up. Gladio had been doing well, and so had his sister who was making quite the name for herself. Gladio had acquired a new scar, and thus a new story to tell. Ignis teased him that he didn’t have to go out and nearly get himself killed simply to be entertaining over dinner. Gladiolus smiled sheepishly, replying with an overly exaggerated _I know, I know_ muttered in mock annoyance. They had a genuinely good time together, even ignoring the ache, the heaviness that pressed in between them that no one dared put a name to or mention.

It had been nine months since he’d seen Gladiolus last, four months for Prompto. There was so much to be said in the little conversation they shared. They parted ways after midnight, Prompto pulling Ignis along to his quarters. They were both heading out the next day - Ignis with Sania and Prompto on an excursion with Gladio. How long it would be before they saw each other again was unknown so they stole the night for themselves.

Anything else they had to say to each other was whispered or moaned between presses of lips, and everything that couldn’t be said was communicated through the undulation of their bodies. Every caress, hitch of leg, every scratch down the back or mark sucked into skin was an _I love you, I need you, Don’t leave me…. Come back to me_.

They fell asleep lying in each other’s sweat, tangled limbs heavy instead of their hearts. All that mattered right now was the strong chest, the steady breaths, and the loving familiarity of one another’s arms.

* * *

 

It was two months until he saw Prompto again, then five, and then another year had passed. And another.  Time was the one constant Ignis could not fight; it couldn’t be delayed or persuaded. It passed whether he wished for it to or not. The year Ignis turned thirty two he believed that everything was going to change. He was finally on his way to a breakthrough, or so he thought after spending the better part of the last six months chasing a lead.

It was only fitting that he’d be summoned to Hammerhead. It was only fitting that Noctis would return _now_ , that he would be resigned to his fate, that he would deny Ignis’ private proposal to give him more time. After getting caught up on the state of things, Noctis had to refuse. What kind of King would he be to allow more to die just for Ignis to find a way to let _him_ live? His life was not more valuable, a sentiment he had to repeat as Ignis protested.

All of his work for naught, the delicate bones of it scattered by the wind. At camp that night, Ignis was distraught. If only he had just a little more time, if only he could convince Noctis, if only... But Noctis squashed any notion of that being a possibility as he announced to the others what he had to do.

Pure shock sprang tears forth to Prompto’s eyes, the gravity of Noctis’ intentions pushed them free without hesitation. But seeing the utter devastation and defeat on Ignis’ face as he crumpled made the blond fold in on himself and openly weep - for himself, for the others, for the broken pieces that he knew were going to be left behind.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Gladiolus had lost his King, his reason to stay upright and put one foot in front of the other. A bodyguard without a charge to protect wasn’t really a bodyguard after all. Prompto had lost his best friend, his first  _ real _ friend and bond. And Ignis, he’d lost a brother - wayward no longer and steadfast in his final decision, one that would save their world… and rip apart all that was familiar to them.

In a world without Noctis curatives were merely liquids in decorative bottles, all their power gone with the last of the Lucis Caelum line. Items they had depended upon were now useless, a luxury lost and one they were quickly reminded of during a hunt when Prompto had been stabbed through by the horn of a species of sabertusk that had grown more aggressive during the decade of darkness. It had been a frightful mess, and a call to clarity that they all needed.

In a world without Noctis there was no magic - no chill, no spark, no burning inferno. Ignis had tried many times to conjure forth flames, to feel that familiar comfort tingle through his skin, to lift the finer hairs, to feel that charge pass through his chest. Even during the darkness, calling upon elemency was a reminder that things were going to be okay, that Noctis was still with them, that he had a reason to keep going, to get back up every time he fell. It had been a way for him to remain connected to his lifelong friend, to remain tethered when all else felt hopeless.

In a world without Noctis, Ignis felt like he was floating or falling or drowning - it all felt the same in any case: dark and uncertain. Even with the return of the sun, even with the joy it brought the people and the life it renewed, Ignis took its warmth with a sort of bitterness, like the coffee he drank black these days.

They don’t see each other much anymore; it’s been nearly two years since light had returned and one since they went their separate ways to lick their wounds and patch their hearts back together even though they all knew they will never be fully healed, that part of them was left upon that throne that they can never get back, or fill, or forget. Even with all they had endured, Noctis was what had kept them together and without him… 

Without him there was no fire, no light, no laughter, no reason… just a heavy silence that reminded them all that it was no longer necessary to keep walking together, that they had fulfilled their duty, and it was time for them to keep their final promise to him however they saw fit. There was little fight when they separated.

* * *

 

Ignis caught a ride with some hunters, decided to make his way back toward Galdin Quay. He’d had many good memories there, and many bad ones, too.  But he’d been keeping count and it had been seven hundred and twenty-eight days since he felt sunlight kiss his face. Hearing the chatter amongst the other passengers only confirmed it: talk of the two year dawn celebration rang in his ears, and he was sure Insomnia would look beautiful. But the festivities were not joyous for him, and he’d rather be alone. 

The truck dropped him off as far as he needed and after bidding farewell, Ignis ambled down the road that would lead him to the familiar coastal resort spa. Only, after counting his steps, he turned and ventured onto the sand, heading away from the floating hotel and restaurant and toward a more familiar ground. It wasn't the uncertainty of his steps in the sand that pulled his lips into a frown, nor the weight of his equipment that hung heavy on his back without the Armiger, but rather the smell of fire clinging in the air that only got stronger the closer he drew to the campsite. He hadn’t thought that someone would be using it. Or  _ who _ that someone would be.

“I-Iggy?”

He froze, even after all this time he knew that voice anywhere. It was still so light, surprise lacing the echo of his name. Ignis forced a smile. “Prompto.”

The blond jumped down from the rock and Ignis could hear the apprehension in his step, the pause before the soft sift of sand, and then arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Ignis gently lifted a hand and patted his back in return. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Prompto laughed lightly, the sound anxious but warm. “Me neither. It’s good to see you though. No one’s been able to get in touch with you, Gladio will be glad to hear you’re doing okay.”  _ That you’re still alive  _ goes unsaid _. _

The corner of Ignis’ lips quirked up. “How is Gladiolus?”

“He’s good. He actually returned to Insomnia a couple months ago. He decided to try to start up an official guard, to protect the city. He says there still needs to be order.”

Ignis nodded with a hum, still standing stiffly, bag still on his shoulders. “Good, I’m glad he’s found something.”  _ That one of us has _ . “And you?”

“Why don’t you come up and join me? By the looks of it you were planning on camping out. I could use the company and we could catch up,” Prompto suggested. He was hoping Ignis would concede, as it stood he looked like he was going to bolt for it at any moment. Prompto grimaced, knowing that it would go unseen; he hated feeling like Ignis was just avoiding them all, avoiding  _ him _ … after all they had been through, all they had done together.

It was too late to go anywhere else at this point, and maybe - just maybe - it wouldn’t be so bad to have Prompto keep him company. It had been a very long time and there were parts of him, empty and shaking, that yearned to have the blond near him again. At the very least he wasn’t pushy like Gladiolus. “Very well.”

The smile was evident in Prompto’s voice when he spoke again. “Awesome! Here, let me take your pack.” 

Ignis surrendered it as hands were already upon him, tugging the straps from his shoulders. He followed Prompto up onto the haven, hand skating over the runes - just etchings now without magic, a reminder of a time past.

* * *

 

They worked together to unpack a few things, Prompto suggesting they share a tent, save Ignis the hassle of having to set up his own. He begrudgingly agreed, knowing that it also meant remaining close to one another all night. Maybe that was part of Prompto's plan. In this moment, Ignis could still see the young man, gaze shimmering as if all the stars in the sky were born from his eyes - all doe like and hopeful. They had all been hopeful in the beginning... and the image both warmed him and made the gaping wound in his heart pulse. Ignis was undeserving of such kindness, especially from him.

"So..." Prompto began softly once they were settled. He wasn't quite sure what to say or where to begin. They were two people from opposite worlds brought together by a single person. If not for Noctis, they'd never have come to know each other, to become friends, or brothers in arms, or lovers - for however complicated and temporary it was. Although their opposite worlds were nearly mirror images now, Ignis still felt so distant, untouchable.

Ignis made no attempt to fill in the silence and Prompto wondered  if perhaps he just didn't know what to say either. He reached out to him, but stopped, letting his hand fall away. Trying again, he kept his tone light.  "So... it's been over a year. What have you been up to?"

Prompto's question was simple enough, but with the guilt Ignis had stored inside himself he'd heard: It's been a year since I woke up to an empty bed and your belongings gone. What have you been up to that has kept you from answering my calls?

He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, hiding behind it and drinking slowly to delay answering. His insides twisted but he eventually licked his lips and offered a slight shake of his head. "I've just... been traveling. Communications have been slow to get restored. But I've just been curious about the state of the world and wished to see it for myself."

The crackle of the fire filled the space between them, and Prompto poked at it with another stick. "Where all did you go? This is the farthest I've traveled in over a year. Will you... tell me about it?"

"Well, I've had to rely on others, and travel still isn't quite as smooth as I remember, but-" 

He told him of feeling the salty ocean spray and the smell of petrichor - that calm heavy earthiness; he told him of wild flowers blooming along his hiking path, the harshness of sand, the mercy of a cool breeze against the summer sun. He didn't tell him about sensing Noctis in the shadows, or feeling his touch on the wind. He didn't tell him about the nightmares or the tears that stained cheap motel pillows, or the cold sweat he often woke in.

Prompto moved closer as he'd listened, stoking the fire as he did. He'd spent so many nights before camping with Ignis, and the memory  of him relaxed in his chair with a cup of coffee was far from the way he currently sat, pulled in on himself. He knew far too well the look of someone putting their best face forward and hoping it was enough. He understood that pain, saw his own grief in Ignis' withdrawn posture. But he was talking and Prompto wanted to keep him talking. Gods, how he missed that voice...

"About six months ago I heard you were in Cape Caem. But only that one night. And the guy who told me he saw you there? Said he didn't even talk to you, just thought it was you." He sighed dramatically and lightly laughed. "Were you there?" He was genuinely curious. All those years ago at Cape Caem, boarding that ship... there really had been no turning back at that point.

"Yes, I was there," he answered softly. He hadn't been able to go further, and after a night spent grieving there, he'd traced his steps back to Lestallum and blended in for a while. After that he slipped away to roam Duscae for a few months. Some part of him thought that maybe if he kept moving that it would get easier. Ignis wasn't even sure what  _ it _ was, just that he couldn't keep living every day feeling as if he was swallowing around cotton, as if every breath was made in a struggle underwater.

Prompto quietly hummed. "I heard from Cindy you were in Hammerhead... before that."

Ignis inhaled deeply, taking in the salt of the sea and the warmth of the fire, pulling those burning embers into himself. There was something about the smell of burning wood that had come to both comfort and terrify him. He wasn't quite sure which one it was this time.  Conversation that happened so easily before bordered on becoming distressing, and Ignis blamed himself for that as well.

"I was there, too, to stock up on some supplies-"

"Before moving on?" Prompto guessed.

Ignis dropped his elbows to his knees and forced a brief smile. "Yes. I haven't much felt like remaining in one place."

_ I noticed _ , Prompto wanted to reply, wanted to let the bitterness drip from his tongue. For even as much as he loved Ignis, he was bitter. Instead he said something much different, but pained all the same. "You could've taken me with you."

"Prompto-"

"Why didn't you?" he whispered, but there was no quieting the heartache carried in his words.

' _ I didn't want to _ ,' sounded too harsh, and was far from the truth. There were nights when Prompto visited him instead of those nightmares - those images of Noctis' fate, memories of rushing water and monstrous screams, of that damned tone in Noctis' voice when he told Ignis thank you, of still limbs and cold metal and warmth spilling over his fingers.

No, in those dreams with Prompto they were younger and unmarred by the cruelty of life. More often than not, they were dreams of simple things: eating together, Prompto taking pictures of them, or playing a video game as Ignis was curled up beside him, smiling at his antics as he was buried in a book. Dreams of him buried inside Prompto, wrapped up in his arms and nothing else. Dreams of warmth and happiness. Dreams that he woke slowly from, that had him yearning for a longer slumber, for a different life. Dreams that haunted him in an entirely different fashion - dangling what could have been in the cold reality of what he had.

"Because I had to do this alone."

"Why?" he pressed. Prompto didn't normally press, he avoided confrontation. But he needed this, and he deserved some answers. He was worth the truth wasn't he? "Why did everyone want to be alone?" There, he couldn't stop it, and his voice was sharp with the sting of accusation."I thought that we-"  _ were meant for more, for each other " _ -I thought that we were friends? I know I didn't say anything then, but you and Gladio both just wanted to leave, if I had said anything would either of you had listened? Stayed?"

Ignis hung his head; he knew he was guilty and that he'd had this coming for some time now. If Prompto wanted to get it all out, then he'd let him, perhaps with the air cleared it would be easier for them both to part ways again. "I don't know," he replied honestly.

The wood in the fire cracked and fell in on itself and the soft, shaky breath Prompto took pulled Ignis' attention from the slowly dying flames.He'd done it again, all Ignis had done over the last few years was hurt him. Every quiet sob was like a dagger to his chest. "Prompto... I-"

"How could you just leave me? Noct... and Gladio, and you... you were all I had. After all that time together you just...  _ left _ ... and I didn't want to be alone." He sniffed, the pain he was trying to hold back escaped in a small whimper as he wiped at his eyes. "I thought that you loved me, too," he stuttered between trembling breaths, he'd dived into the deep end, "that you cared about me, that maybe I meant more to you than a familiar presence and a warm bed. It was so easy for you to leave, it makes the answer to my questions pretty obvious..."

Ignis whipped his face toward him, Prompto could hate him, hurl insults at him, because he deserved it, but he couldn’t let him believe that. "That's not true."

"It's what it feels like," Prompto countered softly, his anger leaving as quickly as it came, self-pity and a soft thrum of resentment replacing it more with every beat of his heart.

"I wanted nothing more than to be with you."

Prompto scoffed. "Then why didn't you stay with me? It's just that easy."

"It isn't."

"But it  _ is _ !" he snapped, with a ferocity and desperation that Ignis hadn't heard in a whisper before. "It is just that easy. You make the choice to stay. You stay in bed, you stay in my arms, stay asleep.... until we can't take it anymore and then we get up  _ together _ . That's how easy it would've been."

Prompto was barely hanging onto this version of himself, his edges frayed, and Ignis couldn't do anything but breathe. Gods how it hurt. He turned back to the remains of the fire, facing its warmth. "I couldn't take you with me, because I was seeking forgiveness. I had failed my sole duty."

Prompto shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Noctis. Take care of him, that's what I was supposed to do..."

"And you did. Noct's duty was to bring back the light, and he had accepted what that meant.You stood there and supported him, right next to me, in the end. You did all you could, you did what Noctis wanted you to do. You can't-"

"I was trying to find a way to save him, Prompto."

The younger man hadn't been expecting to hear that and was stunned into silence. He blinked slowly as he processed the information, lingering tears falling down his cheeks. "What do you mean..."

"I mean I was trying to find a way for him to bring back the light without having to die to do it."

"You never said anything," Prompto retorted. "Why didn't you tell me? Gladio?"

"Because I didn't want you two to know."

Realization crept up on Prompto. Ignis had known this entire time exactly what the gods were going to require of him, exactly what Noctis was going to have to do once he got back.  "All this time. You  _ knew _ ."

"I did," he affirmed, voice heavy under the weight he had placed upon his own shoulders. He had expected more yelling and accusations.  _ Why? We could have helped you! Why would you keep that to yourself? _

But, in some ways, Prompto did understand. In the quiet darkness encroaching upon their campsite, he thought back to the last decade and Ignis' determination, his perseverance to become acquainted with his blindness, to no longer be what he thought was a hindrance to others, to prove he was capable, and more than. He thought back to how all of that spirit seemed to fade little by little like an old photograph over every passing year. All of those times he would find Ignis alone, murmuring that he didn't know how he was going to make it, and he had tried to cheer him up. All of those years and Ignis had been carrying it alone, and Prompto had never been any wiser to it. "Iggy..."

"That's why I didn't want to tell you. I couldn't bear to hear that sound in your voice."

Prompto sat silently for a moment before picking up another piece of wood to put onto the fire. Ignis reached out and stopped him, hand curling lightly around his wrist. "Please, just leave it."

"What happened?" he asked then, as he set the wood down to the side.

Scrounging up bits of his heart like loose change between couch cushions, Ignis gathered what he could and hoped it would be enough. He could already feel the warmth of the fire receding from his face, it seemed fitting as he confessed that he’d known ever since he had put on that ring that fateful day in Altissia. He confessed that he asked Noctis to reconsider, knowing the truth of what would come to pass, having  _ seen _ it for himself, how the images were still so vivid long after the faces of his friends as he had known them had faded.

Prompto listened as the fire dwindled, as the strength in Ignis’ voice waned until there was nothing left but dimming embers and a wilted soul. And just like that night two years ago now, when Noctis had made his intentions clear and said his goodbyes, Prompto cried - for what would never be, for his own blindness, for Ignis and all the tears he couldn't cry any longer. 

He took a shaky breath as he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He could see his companion  bathed in the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds rolling by overhead. He rubbed his hands down over his thighs and then moved closer to Ignis. “So… you didn’t make it. But that’s okay,” Even Prompto could hear the disbelief in his voice. “I mean… you can’t blame yourself, Iggy. If I had known I would’ve supported you, I wouldn’t have tried to cheer you up with my stupid-”

“I wished to carry the burden alone,” he interrupted, feeling like the hypocrite he was as memories of him asking Noctis to share the load swam just beneath the surface. “I didn’t want to give you hope, especially if it couldn’t be done. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to hurt you like that. I thought it was for the best, and I’m sorry.” His voice hitched as his head dropped. “I’m sorry that I failed, that I pushed you away, that I hurt you just the same… I am an awful, selfish man, Prompto.”

“You are,” he agreed softly. “But I’m selfish, too. I… I knew you were going to be here,” he confessed with a quiet breath and a sniffle. “I talked to every hunter, to Holly, to Cindy, Dino. I searched for you, tried to track you down, and I heard that you had left for Galdin Quay so I did, too. I’ve been here waiting for you since yesterday.”

Ignis turned his head in Prompto’s direction; he didn’t know why he was so surprised to hear this, Prompto had always shown tenacity when it came to something he truly desired. But after everything, he had to ask. “Why?”

“Because I love you, because I was angry… because I wanted to ask you all those questions.”  Prompto clenched his eyes shut against the burn of fresh tears as he leaned towards Ignis. “Because I wanted to bring you back with me.”

Weight hit his shoulder, fingers clawed at the back of his shirt, and Ignis felt the wet warmth of his tears splatter and roll down his arm. He lifted his hand and gently draped it at the back of Prompto’s head, brushing his thumb over his hair, still as soft as he remembered. He was speechless, unsure what to say to the blond that wouldn’t make him cry even harder. He used to be so good as consoling others, he couldn’t quite remember when that had changed. However Prompto seemed content with the silent reassurance, pulling himself closer and wrapping his other arm around Ignis’ middle. 

He leaned his head to rest against the top of Prompto’s, curling a hand over his arm, smoothing his touch down to lace their fingers together. It felt so natural to hold him like this, even after a year apart, even longer since they had actually shared any sort of intimacy or quiet moments alone together. His body still knew Prompto’s, how to cradle him close, how to caress his skin, and press the whisper of a kiss to the crown of his head. 

Prompto’s grip tightened on him in response. “Ignis… please, come home with me.”

A year had been a long time to be away from everyone, and as much as his heart ached to return, he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to. “I don’t know if I can, not yet at any rate. I’m sorry, Prompto, just thinking about it hurts,” he admitted. What good were secrets between them now?

“Then let me stay with you,” he countered. “I can’t do this by myself…”

Ignis pulled back, coaxed Prompto to lift his head with a soft prod of his fingers. “Traveling these days holds a lot of uncertainty and-”

“I have experience with uncertainty.”

“I don’t know when I’d return to Insomnia-”

“It’s empty there without you anyway.”

Ignis was both frazzled and swayed by Prompto’s persistence. “I don’t know what kind of future I could promise you. I don’t believe it’ll be easy”

“As long as it’s a future with you, I don’t care,” he shot back, eyes brimming with tears. He took a deep breath, took Ignis’ hand in his own, pulling it to his chest. “Don’t you remember? A future… is worth fighting for, isn’t it?”

Ignis let out a surprised breath. How many years had it been? But that night in Lestallum rushed to the forefront. How he had wanted so much back then, denied himself of it when Prompto had been so willing. And here he was… still warm and hopeful and willing. Could Ignis truly allow himself this? Would it be okay to? It was such a tempting invitation.

Fingers brushed softly across the ridges of his knuckles. “Isn’t it?” Prompto whispered.

They may not have a home like Ignis had always envisioned, but they could make memories together out here. They could share tears by a dying fire, laughter and fears in the lush fields of Duscae, whispered confessions among the sands in Longwythe. They could share moans and cries of passion that could rival the heat of Lestallum, declarations of love carried by the wind in Cape Caem…

Prompto gasped when he felt Ignis curl his fingers and squeeze his hand back in return, when he saw the barest hint of a smile lit up by the moon. 

“Of course it is,”  Ignis replied. 

Prompto flung his arms around him, smiling when he felt him return the embrace. He was sure that this was just the first step, the first battle, but as long as they remained beside one another, Prompto was convinced they could win against the odds.


End file.
